How I Wish 511 Had Ended
by ohcyfan
Summary: A little bromance, a little more Owen and Cristina... This is how I would have ended Episode 5.11.


**Disclaimer: Grey's Anatomy and all its characters are property of ABC and Shonda Rhimes. I do not own anything. **

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"Just leave me the hell alone."

Cristina's pained expression tore at Owen's heart as the elevator door shut between them. He stared at the surgical cap in his hands and mentally kicked himself. _How exactly did I fuck that up?_ he wondered. He turned away to see that Derek had paused behind him in the hallway on his way to the elevator, not wanting to interrupt. He had undoubtedly witnessed the whole interaction.

"Shot you down, huh?" Derek commiserated.

Owen said nothing, just responded with a bewildered expression and a shake of his head.

"Let's go, " Derek came up beside him and pushed the elevator button, "I could use a drink myself."

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"I think you and I got off on the wrong foot, Hunt," Derek observed good-naturedly and took a swig of his beer. "You're not nearly as much of a dick as I thought you were."

"Likewise," Owen met his gaze for a moment and raised his bottle in salute. It felt really good to be sharing a beer with a colleague. He'd missed that more than he'd cared to admit to himself until now.

Joe's was hopping, but they had managed to snag a booth when someone got up just as they had arrived. The background din served to keep their conversation private. As he scanned the room, Derek noticed Callie and Mark at the bar, with Lexie and some of the other interns hanging around one of the tables. How many times had he come here after work? He'd lost count. Like most of the staff at Seattle Grace, he had reached the point where he just gravitated here without even thinking about it.

"Listen," Derek continued, "don't take what happened back there too personally. She's having a rough time without Meredith. Those two were like this," he raised two fingers, twined together, "Got on my nerves, to be honest, but now that they're fighting, I think I actually miss it... I'm just not equipped to be anybody's boyfriend **and** their best girlfriend. It's making me a little crazy."

Owen drank his beer quietly and just nodded.

"There something there? You two?" Derek prodded.

"I don't know." Owen tended to be guarded with his innermost thoughts and feelings, but there was something reassuring about Derek that inspired the sharing of confidences, and he was hungering for some decent male companionship. _What have I got to lose, really? _he thought_._ _Nothing ventured... _

"I thought so, but now I'm not so sure…"

Derek nodded. _There's definitely something there._ "In case it matters, she's a tough nut to crack. She had a really hard time last year…" he trailed off and signaled the waitress for a couple more beers.

"How d'you mean?" Owen was intrigued. Other than the stuff he just **knew** about Cristina, he knew very little about Cristina. It was about time he got some solid information.

Derek leaned back against the bench cushion, contemplating how much to say. He tapped his fingers on the table. "Involved with an Attending… ended badly…"

_That little tidbit right there was worth the price of admission_. "Badly, how?"

"Not my story to tell… but if you two end up… well, I'm sure you'll get it out of her eventually."

_Ok...frustrating… and reassuring. At least this guy has some discretion where other people's business is concerned._

"Got any advice?" Owen inquired.

_There's a lot less ego here than I originally assumed,_ Derek reflected. _Good. _He thought about the question for a minute. "Yeah. She's not as tough as she looks, or as she'd want everyone to believe."

Owen raised an eyebrow. "I actually figured that one out for myself already…" He paused. "What about you? Is it serious?"

"Ah…" Derek smiled, "Well, if it's not, we've wasted one hell of a lot of each others time. It's slow going with Meredith… kind of a two steps forward and one step back thing. We'll get there eventually… I just have to be light on my feet."

Owen nodded. _Shepherd's ok,_ he mused, _not the officious pretty-boy asshole I pegged him as that first day._ Tonight's Derek was introspective and clearly didn't take himself too seriously._ I can work with that._

"Speaking of which," Derek continued, "my ride is here." Meredith was standing just inside the door, looking around the room for him. He rose and left a few bucks on the table. "Sorry to desert you, but I think I'm in for a long night of girl talk, so I might as well get started."

"Sure, no problem. Thanks for suggesting this. It… helped."

"Oh, and… you might want to take your drink over to the bar. Someone's been staring a hole in the back of your head off and on for the past ten minutes."

Owen turned slowly to see Cristina sitting sideways at the bar, alone, head propped on her hand, nursing a drink. The scene at the elevator replayed itself in his mind.

"_You want to go for a drink or something?"  
"Sure, but not with __**you**__, asshole."_

_Do I go over there or just leave her alone?_ he wondered. Not wanting to overthink it and lose his nerve, he dropped a few more bucks on the table, picked up his beer, and walked over to where Cristina sat. There was an empty stool next to her and he took it. She looked up. "I thought I told you to go away," she said tiredly.

"And **I** thought you might have had time to wish you hadn't said that, and that you might be sitting here wondering if I'd risk getting slapped again and come over."

"What... so you can cheer up the poor little lonely girl, sitting all by herself at the bar? Thanks but no thanks." Her tone dripped with sarcasm, but the undertone of pain was unmistakable.

"You credit me with far too much altruism, Dr. Yang," he said seriously and took another swig of his beer, "...and for what it's worth, I meant well, even if you're too busy feeling sorry for yourself to see that right now."

_Too busy feeling sorry for myself? Fuck you._ "Oh yeah? Which Owen was that? The one who ignored me this morning and brushed me off after lunch? Or the one who brought me coffee and asked me if I wanted to go for a drink? 'Cuz I'm having some trouble keeping track of who's who."

_Well, she's keeping track of **something**, that's for sure, _Owen mused as he processed what she had just told him. He remembered the brush-off after lunch, but the other one drew a blank. "When did I ignore you this morning?"

_Are you shitting me? How could you not remember? _"I came over and asked you what the incoming was all about, and you just walked away."

He looked confused. "I... if you say so. Honestly, I didn't even notice you were there. I was too busy trying to figure out if I could punch the Chief and still keep my job to pay attention to anything else..." He was growing agitated. "How could he even consider putting female staff anywhere within 50 feet of that piece of scum they brought in? He should have brought Karev and O'Malley in for this case, not you two."

The idea that his behavior had nothing at all to do with her had not occurred to her until now. "Whatever." She sat there moodily and stared at her drink. The silence stretched out uncomfortably.

"Look," Owen continued, "I'm not used to working in this kind of environment. Where I've been for the past few years, everything's right up front and immediate. Work is work. Play is… rare. I don't know shit about having the luxury of mixing the two. So when I'm working, I'm working. I don't play games with people. It's not a hot and cold thing with me, even if it seems like it."

She looked at him and said nothing, so he dived in again. "You know... this place rivals some actual minefields I've come across in the desert. I'm bound to step on a few until I figure it out…"

She was looking down at her drink again, and he paused until she glanced up and he caught her eye, "You think you might cut me a little slack here?"

Cristina's resentment and anger at Owen melted away in that instant. _I'm not even really mad at **him**, _she realized. _He was just convenient. No one else dared to put a hand out for me to bite. I took a chunk out of him, and here he is again. That's more than I can say for any of my so-called friends right now._

The silence stretched on and Owen began to think he'd struck out. He let out a long breath, shifted in his seat, and prepared to get up and leave.

"Ok," she finally said.

He looked at her and saw that the hardness in her expression had softened. The pain was still there, but the edge was gone. He shifted back down into his seat and gave her a little smile. "Ok."

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A/N: And THAT is how I wish last night's episode had ended!


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